


Analogue

by capt_eli



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Implied/Referenced Borderline Abuse, M/M, Masochism and Sadism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:49:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1369456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capt_eli/pseuds/capt_eli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>n. (chemistry) one of a group of chemical compounds similar in structure but different in respect to elemental composition</p>
            </blockquote>





	Analogue

**Author's Note:**

> Another little thing I spit out in about an hour. Minimal editing, so excuse any lack of flow.

His time with Gabranth could hardly be described as healthy. He remembers hands around his throat, tightening until his blood pounded in his ears and in his cock. He remembers belts leaving thick welts across his thighs and nails scraping angry red lines across his back. Biting, hitting, scratching, and Gabranth always walked away with as many marks as his bedmate. The young judge found just as much pleasure in beating his superior as he did in receiving such beatings.

It was intimate yet impersonal. Neither would trust anyone else with their rituals, yet there were no kisses, no tending each other’s wounds, no nights spent together after the thrashing and messing of bed sheets.

Balthier curses that he is a twin. He curses it at the same time he finds opportunity in it. He is not close to the ex-captain, but Basch is not Gabranth, this much he knows. Though, with the help of a little drink, courtesy of Garif hospitality, he may be a bit more receptive to Balthier’s advances.

When Basch retires to his tent in Jahara, Balthier follows. He slips in behind him settles his hands on Basch’s biceps. “These are trying times, captain,” he breathes against a scarred ear. “A touch of stress relief would do you good.” Balthier doesn’t want to bother with pleasantries and from the way Basch twists to face him, not away from him, he doesn’t mind.

Before Basch can say anything, Balthier crushes their mouths together, instantly searching with his tongue and tasting the bitter remains of alcohol. Basch’s muscles tighten under his fingers and the pirate longs for the ache they promise. But Basch pulls back, just enough to soften the kiss and lay his hands lightly on Balthier’s waist. He pulls back completely and smiles, tugging Balthier down onto the sleeping mat with him. “You needn’t be so hasty,” he mumbles.

Balthier hesitates only slightly, something feeling very off about this. _He just needs to be shown_ , he thinks, and pulls Bash on top of him. He snarls his fingers in Basch’s hair, something he could never do to Gabranth, and bites just under his jaw. Basch groans and Balthier feels him hardening against his leg. He smiles and nibbles at Basch’s collarbone before letting go of his hair and yanking his own collar open, glad he hadn’t worn his vest. “Mark me,” he declares. Basch pulls back and looks at him and it’s too dark for Balthier tell if it’s curiosity or confusion on his face. “Make me yours.”

Basch chuckles quietly and leans down, but he’s too slow, too soft when he kisses Balthier’s neck. The hands, though large and calloused, are too gentle when they slip under his shirt. Basch feels the younger man tense under his touch and moves to look at Balthier. “If you want to stop, just say so.” Balthier blinks hard and doesn’t say anything. He _does_ want to stop, wants to stop this silly kissing and kind whispering. How does he say that he isn’t here for lovemaking, that he’s here for fucking? Basch sees his hesitation and smiles again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Balthier gapes. No, Basch is not Gabranth, not in the slightest. He’s a fool for thinking otherwise, and he’s a fool for thinking drink would help. Balthier closes his mouth and tries to smile back. Basch may not be a lost cause; with a bit of explaining and convincing, they may arrange something between them. It won’t be the same, not with agreements and safewords, but it would be something. And it would not be tonight.

“I think I would like to stop after all, captain.” Balthier puts a hand on Basch’s arm and Basch moves to let him up. “Thank you for asking,” he says, though he knows it’s insincere. “I would try some other time, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course.” Basch watches Balthier move to the tent flap and catches his wrist at the last minute. He pulls the pirate close and kisses him. “Good night.”

 It won’t be the same at all. Balthier almost feels bad. He can’t give Basch what he wants any more than Basch can him. He is disappointed, but he is a gentleman, so he smiles and says good night and leaves.

Balthier wanders to the edge of the village, arousal dulling to just a faint ache, and he curses his taste in men.


End file.
